Page 55 of Glitter Rose
His fingers move to my hip, gripping hard enough to bruise, and I welcome the pain, wanting to carryhismarks onmyskin.
He buries himself deep with a final thrust, his entire body tensing as he comes. The sound he makes sends another pulse of pleasure through me, and his weight sinks me deeper into the cushions, our breathing synchronized and ragged.
Is this who I’ve been all along, beneath the loneliness and fear? This needy woman?
He carefully withdraws, both of us wincing at the loss, and rolls to his side.
I stare at the stale popcorn, stunned by what just happened.
By what I just did.
My body aches in places I didn’t know could ache, but beneath the discomfort is a bone-deep satisfaction that makes me want to purr like a contented cat.
Knox disposes of the condom, then drapes a blanket over us, tucking me against the solid warmth of his body. He opens his mouth to speak, but I place my fingers on his lips.
“Don’t,” I warn. “Don’t say anything stupid that might ruin this.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Good.” I trace patterns on his skin. “What were you going to say, anyway?”
Instead of answering, he kisses me, soft and sweet, so different from the hungry desperation of before. When he pulls back, his eyes are serious, almost vulnerable. “You okay?”
I nod, not trusting my voice. How do I tell him that I’m both more okay and more not okay than I’ve ever been? That he’s simultaneously my greatest comfort and my greatest fear?
I trace the line of his collarbone, following the ridge with my fingertip. “So my brother is what, exactly? Some kind of apocalypse villain?”
“Something like that. We need to talk about Gabriel. About what he’s doing. About what it means that you’re his sister. But?—”
“Not right now,” I finish for him. I close my eyes, too tired of my stupid brother destroying everything for me. “You’re right. I can’t take any more tonight.”
“I’m sorry.”
Whatever my brother has become, whatever Knox’s community is fighting against, it can wait.
Right now, I need this. Need him.
Need to believe that for once in my life, I’ve found someone who won’t leave.
THIRTEEN
PARIS
A familiar and unwelcome voice crawls into my dreams. Gabriel’s voice. I roll over, my hand reaching for Knox’s warmth, for the solid reassurance of his body next to mine, but my fingers find only cooling sheets.
I’m alone.
The voice comes again, clearer now, no longer confined to the realm of nightmares but present in my bedroom. Real. Here.
“Look at you, still clinging to these ridiculous silk sheets. Some things never change.”
My eyes snap open. The room comes into focus, harsh morning light spilling through the gap in my curtains. And there he is—Gabriel, my brother—leaning against my dresser in a suit like he belongs here, like this is still his world and I’m just living in it.
He’s really alive.
His face is the same. Handsome in that cold, calculated way that makes people want to impress him, and the same green eyes as me. Eyes that always looked at me like I was a problem to be solved, not a sister to be loved.
“Gabriel.” I grab the blanket, hoisting it up to my chin, suddenly aware I’m wearing nothing but underwear and Knox’s t-shirt. “What the fuck?”
